


the undead are your family

by babybrackish



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Found Family, No plot just fluff, Slice of Life, i just wanna write sweet shit sometimes!!!, timeline is unspecified but jumps around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrackish/pseuds/babybrackish
Summary: sometimes “family” is four idiots and their slightly-less-idiotic mom friend(just a collection of fluff/wholesome ficlets)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 28





	1. cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whiskey_With_Patron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_With_Patron/gifts).



> gifted to Whiskey_With_Patron because i read her ghost hunters au and i just really love the idea of them all vibing in one house together and doing everything together... also we all need plotless, slightly chaotic fluff sometimes
> 
> not intended to be updated regularly, just for whenever i feel like writing cheesy fluff/pure friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jordon just wants to make cookies with his friends

Danny shrieks as Jordon jerks the shower curtain open.

“Calm down, it's just me,” Jordon says with an eye roll, unfazed by Danny frantically tugging the curtain away from Jordon to cover himself. “I’m making cookies. You wanna help decorate?”

Danny gapes at him, the suds in his hair popping and crackling. “Jordon, I am  _ fucking naked!” _

“Obviously? Who fucks with their clothes on?” 

Danny glares, wanting very much to swat the cheeky grin off of Jordon’s face. “Jordon,” he says firmly, “I am trying to shower.”

“Fine, mom,” Jordon groans, “but you better help me when you’re done. They’re almost done baking.” He juts his lip out, pulling on the poutiest face he can muster.

Against his own will, Danny’s heart melts. He can’t say no to that face. He sighs. “Of course I’ll help you. Just let me, you know -” He tugs at the shower curtain.

“Right,” Jordon says with a nod, “I’ll let you jack it.”

Danny takes a deep breath, struggling to calm his nerves. “Let me  _ shower.” _

“Nothing wrong with -”

“Jordon. I swear to god.”

Jordon raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, man, alright, I’ll leave you alone.”

_ “Thank you.” _

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


Danny shuffles out of his room with fresh clothes on, his hair still damp, a towel around his neck. He makes his way towards the kitchen, chewing the inside of his cheek as he contemplates what to put on their grocery list. Jordon used all the bread on ham sandwiches. The eggs were lost to Dylan’s ovary joke. Dylan dared Jorel to chug the last of his almond milk. George ate the last stick of butter to intimidate Jordon. Danny finished all the chocolate chips. So they need -

Of course, that train of thought is brought to an abrupt halt when he reaches the kitchen. Jordon leaps out of his seat and rushes to Danny, dragging him in by his arms. “‘Bout time you got here, pussy!” 

Danny allows himself to be pulled along, blinking at Jordon.

Jordon yanks a chair out and pushes Danny down onto it before bumbling over to the kitchen counter. Dylan is sprawled on the chair next to Danny’s, staring blankly into the distance as he chews on his hair. He smells faintly of weed.

Danny glances around the kitchen as Jordon retrieves a large tray from the counter. There’s flour smeared on the floor and stove, the mixing bowl and the beater stacked precariously in the sink with streaks of icing still on them. There are various squeeze bottles on the counter, each filled with different colors of icing. 

“Here!” Jordon announces, carrying the tray to the table. There’s a large assortment of plain cookies on the tray, all various shapes. He plunks the tray on top of the table. “Now let me just -” He shuffles back to the counter, stacking the squeeze bottles in his arms and carefully carrying them back to the table. “Ta-da! Wait.” He darts for the silverware drawer, tugging it open and scooping out a handful of butter knives. He brings them to the table.

_ “Now  _ ta-da!” Jordon announces. Dylan claps, whooping at the top of his lungs. Jordon preens.

“Look, homie,” Jordon says, carefully digging through the cookies to retrieve one and pass it to Dylan. Dylan’s eyes go wide as he takes it. “I got an epic cookie cutter.” 

Dylan gapes down at the cookie, baked into the shape of a marijuana leaf. “Bro…” he whispers.

“Bro,” Jordon confirms. 

Danny laughs.

“And look, Daniel,” Jordon says, gripping one of the squeeze bottles and passing it to Danny. It’s filled with pink icing. “I made that just for you.” He gestures to Danny’s hair.

Danny blushes. Rubbing the back of his neck, he mumbles, “Thank you, Jordon.” Jordon beams. 

Danny takes hold of a heart-shaped cookie and begins to ice.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


Dylan flips his squeeze bottle and takes aim. “Dylan!” Danny shrieks as Dylan squirts purple icing onto him. Jordon howls with laughter, his freshly-iced cookie halfway to his mouth. Danny turns a glare on him, wiping purple icing from his face. “Jordon, stop eating the cookies before we’re even finished.”

Jordon freezes. He looks down at the half-eaten Hello Kitty face in his hand. “Hey,” he mumbles through his mouthful. “This was m’ idea!”

“Yes, but we need to leave some for George and Jorel,” Danny reasons. “We always make cookies for everyo -  _ Dylan!”  _ Danny’s eyes go round with horror as Dylan draws a purple line across Danny’s perfectly iced angel. “You -”

“Icing war?” Jordon mutters as he crams the last of his cookie into his mouth, snatching up a bottle and pointing it at Danny.

“No!” Danny wails, right as Jordon squirts orange icing into his eye. Dylan leans forward and squeezes icing down Jordon’s neck. Jordon shrieks.

Hell breaks loose.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“Jesus,” George breathes, grocery bags bundled in his arms. Jorel peers around him, his own lips parted with disbelief. 

The three in the kitchen whirl around, a despairing look on Danny’s purple-and-orange face, a bottle of yellow icing in his hand. Dylan’s hair is matted with orange and yellow, Jordon’s shirt coated with purple and pink. 

“What the fuck were you guys doing?” Jorel asks, staring at them like they’ve gone insane. They probably have. There’s icing smeared on the walls, the counter, the floor. There’s an assortment of cookies abandoned on the table, some fully iced, some half-iced, some completely untouched.

George cannot find the words.

Danny’s face is flushed pink, biting his lip, a look of clear shame on his face. “I’ll clean it up, I’m sorry.” 

“No,” George says, voice faint. “No, uh… glad you had fun?” He exchanges a look with Jorel. He looks back at Danny. “Maybe we shouldn’t leave you alone with these two anymore.”

Danny flushes deeply as Jordon and Dylan break into laughter. “Sorry,” Jordon says through his giggles, “sorry, we’re bad influences.” He breaks back into a round of cackles. 

“Um.” Danny shuffles, throwing an apologetic glance towards George. “I, uh -” He reaches behind himself, grabbing a cookie from the table and holding it out. It’s a butterfly, carefully iced blue. “If it helps, I, uh… made this for you?”

George just stares. “... Thank you?”

Jorel gapes at the carnage for a moment longer before looking up at the clock.

It’s not even 11am yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the beginning was inspired by one of my absolute favorite incorrect quotes! i used it as the prompt for this chapter but it morphed dgfbfbfb https://rockandmetalramblings.tumblr.com/post/611893369200852992/charlie-pulls-back-curtain-while-danny-is


	2. jewelry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dylan and jorel do a little early morning shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timelines don’t exist

Jorel thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to sleep in on a Saturday. Really, that’s the least anyone could ask. To be allowed to sleep in on a Saturday.  _ Especially  _ when his girlfriend is staying at the guys’ house for the weekend.

Unfortunately, not everyone thinks so. Jorel is startled awake by a tap on his forehead and a whisper of, “Jay.”

He flinches awake, blinking up at someone through sleep-fogged eyes. Vanessa is nestled against his back, her arm slung around his middle, Tiger curled in the crook between them.

And Dylan is standing above Jorel, looking down at Jorel expectantly.

“What?” Jorel rasps, blinking hard, his eyes gummed up.

“Get up,” Dylan whispers. Vanessa shifts against Jorel’s back. “We’re buyin’ jewelry.”

“We’re - what.” Jorel looks at the clock. It’s seven in the morning. He wanted to sleep until eight. “Why?” he whines. Maybe a little too loudly, if the small noise Vanessa makes is any indicator. He winces and glares up at Dylan. 

“C’monnnn,” Dylan pleads quietly. “I wanna buy everyone some shit.”

“Why can’t you take someone else?” Jorel asks, stifling a yawn, his eyes struggling to stay open. 

“‘Cause I wanna hang out with you,” Dylan whispers, making puppy eyes at Jorel.  _ “Please?  _ You can go back to sleep when we get home.”

Jorel sighs, craning his neck to look back at Vanessa’s lax face. He grumbles and wriggles away from her, carefully maneuvering her arm off of him. She hums and lets her arm flop to the bed. He pushes himself up, glaring at Dylan’s ecstatic grin.

“Get dressed,” Dylan whispers. “We can get breakfast on the way.”

Jorel sighs, trying to shake his sleep away as Dylan bumbles out of the room. Jorel turns to pull the blankets back over Vanessa only to find her peering at him with one half-open eye.

“...Better buy me some, too,” she mumbles, eye slipping shut. He smiles to himself and grips the blanket to pull it back over her as he leans over to press a kiss to her temple. She hums, a little smile dancing across her face as she falls back asleep. Tiger readjusts, rolling onto his back and stretching out. 

Jorel turns to his dresser and begins to pull out his clothes.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


They end up grabbing a shitty McDonald’s breakfast and eating it in the car. Jorel eats his hash browns as he drives, one hand on the wheel, sighing loudly when Dylan spills syrup on the seat. 

Dylan, shoveling pancakes into his mouth, perks up at the sight of a bright orange road work sign.

“Road work ‘head?” Dylan mumbles through his mouthful. “Yeah, I sure hope it does!”

Jorel rolls his eyes. He hands his hash brown wrappers to Dylan, who slams them and his pancake tray into their van’s little plastic trash bag. 

“Are we almost there?” Jorel asks, scanning the buildings flying past them. 

“Yep!” Dylan chirps. “Just a few more miles.”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“This is it?” Jorel asks as they pull up to quite possibly the cheapest-looking jewelry store he’s ever seen. The name printed on the front is  _ PRECIOUS ENJOYMENTS.  _ He looks at Dylan, doubtful. Despite the obvious display of jewelry in the store’s windows, Jorel still has to say, “This sounds like a strip club.”

“It wouldn’t be a good one, dude,” Dylan says with a laugh. “The shit here’s so cheap it’s ridiculous.”

“You dragged me out of bed to buy  _ shitty  _ jewelry?” Jorel asks, staring at Dylan.

“I sure did!” Dylan chirps. “It’s gonna be great, dude.”

“I hope so,” Jorel mumbles as they slide out of the car. 

They shuffle in together, Dylan grinning to himself as he snatches a basket from the front, gripping Jorel by the wrist and dragging him along. Jorel goes begrudgingly, grumbling all the while.

Dylan drags him to the earrings, releasing Jorel’s wrist as he begins to flip through them, biting his lip in concentration. Jorel crosses his arms, sighing as he waits. He wishes he had stayed in bed.

He thinks of his warm, comforting bed, the security of his blankets, Vanessa against his back and Tiger between them. Sleeping in on a Saturday. God, that sounds so nice.

Dylan gasps, snapping Jorel’s attention back to the present. Dylan looks at him with wide, sparkling eyes, lifting up a pair of the most garish, oversized, flashy gold earrings that Jorel’s ever seen. They’re shaped as dangling snakes.

“These are perfect for Danny,” Dylan breathes, and Jorel may not be an expert on fashion, but  _ Jesus  _ this guy has no sense of it.

“Okay,” Jorel says, fighting back a laugh. Danny’s gonna be Dylan’s fucking  _ Christmas tree.  _ “Yeah, that'll work on him.”

Dylan grins, pleased by Jorel’s agreement, and tosses the earrings into their basket. As Dylan moves to inspect the necklaces, Jorel catches sight of a pair of silver earrings in the shape of little butcher knives. He inhales sharply, thinking of Vanessa’s beloved Wednesday.

Ah, fuck. 

He snatches the earrings, shuffling over to Dylan and throwing them into the basket. Dylan beams at him.

As Dylan continues to look through the necklaces, Jorel takes a moment to look over the next few rows of jewelry. He freezes, breath catching in his throat at the sight of a cheapy silver bracelet with a charm in the shape of a dick dangling from it.

Jorel can’t help his wild cackle at that, snatching the bracelet from its little stand. Jordon’s gonna love this.

As he moves back to Dylan to show him the dick bracelet, Dylan turns to him with a wide grin, holding up a silver chain with sparkling, blocky letters dangling from it, spelling out “JESUS CHRIST.”

It’s the same thought that goes through Jorel’s head.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


When they get home, Vanessa is sitting at the table with Tiger in her lap, her hair pulled into pigtails, George and Jordon sitting at the table and chatting with her.

She looks up at their arrival and smiles. “Hey, babe!”

Jordon turns to wave at them. “Where were you guys?”

Dylan grins, holding up their paper bags. George raises a brow. “Danny!” Dylan shouts. “Get in here!”

It only takes a moment for Danny to shuffle in, his eyes still sleepy. He blinks at their bags. 

“We bought some jewelry,” Dylan says as they slam the bags onto the table. Danny isn’t sure he trusts the way Jorel’s smirking at him.

“Jordon,” Dylan says as he tugs the dick bracelet out. “Jay found this.”

Jordon’s face morphs into a look of pure glee as he leaps to his feet, snatching it from Dylan’s hand. “Oh my god!” He cackles as he clasps the bracelet around his wrist. “Fuck yes, bro!”

“George,” Dylan says, pulling out a little golden bracelet with a blue butterfly charm. 

George grins and takes it, pleased. “Thanks, man,” he says.

“And Danny!” Dylan reaches into the bag, Jorel’s smirk widening into a grin. Danny gives him a nervous look in return. “Look! These are perfect for you!” He pulls out the snake earrings.

Danny’s face morphs into a look of faint horror, and Jorel has to fight back another cackle. He’s never seen Danny look so intimidated before.

“Oh,” Danny murmurs. “Yeah, uh… these are perfect.” He takes them from Dylan with a nervous smile. “Thanks, dude.”

Dylan beams and returns to rustling through the bag, humming to himself as Danny stares down at the earrings with wide eyes. Jorel laughs. 

He reaches into the bag as Dylan continues to pull out their purchases. Jorel withdraws the knife earrings and passes them to Vanessa with a little smile. She grins as she takes them.

“Aww,” she coos, holding the earrings in front of her face. “These are adorable!” She beams at him, standing up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, babe!” He smiles and gives her a quick peck on the lips before turning back to where Dylan is showing off a golden chain with letters hanging from it that spell out “GUCCI”, Jordon letting out awed noises.

Maybe it was better not to sleep in after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are so much shorter than im used to writing but i think the length gets my point across just fine so!
> 
> and for those of you who haven’t watched v’s youtube channel; wednesday is the name of her butcher knife/cleaver!


	3. shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s a pretty average shopping trip, really

Pushing a cart with two grown men inside is worlds harder than you might think, but somehow Danny manages. George  _ should  _ be the one pushing it, but he’s “not feeling it today.” 

Danny isn’t even sure how both Dylan and Jordon managed to squeeze in there. Dylan’s knees are folded tight against his chest and Jordon’s legs are dangling from the side of the cart. It looks extremely uncomfortable. A nearby mother stares at them like they’ve all grown several heads, and Danny finds he can’t blame her for it. Her child is equally wide-eyed.

Danny stops at the beginning of the aisle, struggling not to pant. Jorel slinks along beside him, Tiger perched on his shoulders. He doesn’t offer to take the Manbaby Cart from Danny. Danny doesn’t blame him.

George is in front of them, pushing the empty cart. The lightweight, totally normal cart. Lucky bastard. 

“We need mac ‘n cheese,” Jordon says, waving the phone in his hand. George moves to grab the little yellow boxes as Dylan extends one long arm to grab the rice from above him and Jordon.

“We need these,” Dylan says, wiggling the rice packets and dropping them in between him and Jordon.

“No!” Danny cries. Jorel moves to fish the rice packets from between the two. “That goes in George’s cart. It’s gonna get stuck between you guys at checkout.”

Jorel tosses the rice into George’s cart. Dylan rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, Dan,” he simpers. 

Danny shakes his head and takes a deep breath, grunting as he pushes the cart forward. 

“Ketchup!” Jordon announces, jabbing a finger towards the condiments, and George swipes a bottle of ketchup from the shelf. “Oh, and barbecue sauce!” Jordon turns towards Danny with a cocky grin. “Need any more mayo? For snorting purposes?”

Danny blushes. “That was  _ one  _ time!”

“Yeah, but you still did it,” Jorel says, smiling a bit. Tiger meows in agreement.

“You guys dared me to!”

George throws a grin over his shoulder as they continue on to the next aisle. “You seemed to enjoy it,” he says, voice teasing.

“I - you - shut up!” 

Some guy glares at them. Jordon sticks his tongue out at him. The guy glares harder.

“We need pasta,” Jordon says as they enter the next aisle. “Spaghetti and sauces and shit.”

“Spaghetti and sauces and shit?” George repeats as he moves to grab the pasta.

“Spaghetti and sauces and shit,” Jordon confirms.

“Cool.” George drops the pasta and the sauce into his cart.

“What about those?” Dylan says, pointing at a row of little microwave Asian dishes. “Those look tasty.”

“We’ve gotten those before,” Danny says patiently. “You said they tasted like a donkey’s balls.”

“Damn,” Dylan says. “Ah well.”

They continue on.

“We need soup!” Jordon announces once they’re in the next aisle. “That’s the shit when you’re sick.” He grins as George moves to grab the soup. “You know what else is sick? My d -” Jordon makes a surprised noise when Danny slaps a hand over his mouth. Jordon blinks up at him. Danny gestures with his head to a nearby kid. Jordon makes a noise of realization. Danny releases him.

“We need lentils,” Jorel says as he reaches up to stroke Tiger’s face. “Jordon’s making lentil tacos for me.”

_ “I’m  _ making them?” Jordon sputters, attempting to sit up. He fails. “Since when?”

“You’re the cooker here,” Jorel says simply. “So you’re making them.”

“Wha -  _ you  _ make them! You can’t -”

“Maybe if you’d answer my fuckin’ questions -”

“Okay, kids, stop fighting,” George says as he hauls the lentils to the cart. “Jordon’s making lentil tacos for all of us.”

_ “WHAT!” _

Danny slaps his hands on the cart handle, shaking his head violently at Jordon as all eyes in the aisle turn to them. 

Jordon winces. “Sorry, Daniel.”

Jorel rolls his eyes and carries on. “Can we get more canned vegetables?” 

“We sure  _ can,”  _ George says with a grin. Jorel groans. “Anything else down this aisle?”

Jordon checks the little list on his phone. “We need ramen and chili. Oh, and get some of that chili mac shit.”

George grabs a box of ramen packets and tosses it into the cart before moving for the chili cans. “Anything you want here, Dan?”

“No, thank you,” Danny says. He starts to push the cart with a loud huff. Jorel walks beside him. 

They move on to the next aisle.

“Baking shit,” George says as he takes in the sight of the aisle. “You need anything down here, Jordon?”

“Chocolate chips!” Jordon grins. “I’m gonna smear them on the toilet seat.”

“No!” Danny cries. “You’ve already done that!”

“I have? Goddamn it.” Jordon shakes his head. “Well, we still need them anyway. But that’s the end of the list.”

George pushes his cart towards the chocolate chips.

“Okay,” Danny says as George throws them into the cart. “We need more Frosted Flakes and laundry detergent.”

“You gonna mix ‘em?” Jordon asks.

Danny heaves a sigh. “No, Jordon.”

“Lame.”

They grab the cereal.

As Danny painfully pushes the Manbaby Cart towards the laundry detergent, Jorel puts a hand on his shoulder. Danny blinks, pausing in his attempts to haul his idiots down the aisle. “What is it?” 

Jorel points at Tiger on his shoulders. “We need cat treats.”

Danny returns to pushing the cart. “Alright _.” _

“V said we’re out of chicken ones,” Jorel continues. Tiger blinks at Jorel expectantly, like he’s waiting for a treat right now.

“Chicken cat treats. Got it.”

George turns down the cleaning aisle, pushing his cart towards the laundry detergent. He grabs two bottles and flings them into the cart. “What else do we need?”

“Cat treats,” Danny says, and they start off again.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Jordon says. “Those things are fuckin’ tasty, dude.”

George and Danny slow to a stop as everyone’s eyes turn to Jordon. There’s silence for a long, long moment. 

“Jordon,” Jorel says, “are you eating the cat treats.”

“Uh, yeah?” Jordon says, like it should be totally obvious. “You ever tried them? They’re fuckin’ good, man.”

Jorel cranes his neck to stare at Tiger. Tiger stares back. “He’s eating your treats.” Tiger turns to blink at Jordon.

“Okay, new rule,” Danny announces. “No one is allowed to eat the dog treats or the cat treats.”

“Aw, man!” Jordon whines.

“I feel like that should’ve been a rule in the first place,” George notes as he finally returns to pushing his cart.

“Well, gee, George,” Danny grumbles as he pushes Dylan and Jordon along, “I just assumed the cat treats were for the cats.”

“Someone’s cranky today.”

“I am not!”

George rolls the cart into the pet aisle and snags two bags of cat treats. “Cat treats acquired.” Jorel smiles. Tiger gives an excited meow. “Do we need any more diapers or baby food?”

“Nah,” Dylan says. “Anna and Randi stocked up on ‘em a few days ago.”

“I think we’re done,” Danny says, painstakingly turning his overloaded cart around. “Let’s go.”

The cashier coughs as Danny rolls the cart through checkout. 

“You got any price tags?” she asks, smirking at Dylan and Jordon. They grin back at her.

Danny gives her a tired smile as George begins to push his own cart in. “Just the bruises they’re gonna have from squashing against those bars,” Danny murmurs, struggling not to yawn. 

“Hey, excuse you,” Jordon scoffs. “We look fuckin’ sexy.”

When she’s finished checking their items out, the cashier grins and passes the receipt to Danny. “Good luck getting your friends out of there.” Danny smiles at her.

They push the carts out to the van, Jorel plopping Tiger into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s side. 

The problem arises when Dylan gives Danny a nervous smile as Jordon squirms in the cart. “Dan?” Dylan says. “...I think we’re stuck.”


	4. physical affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saying they’re not touchy would be a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i originally wasn’t gonna post this bc it was just for me to practice writing physical affection and the sections are pretty short buuuut i’m happy with how it turned out and figured it’d be sweet to post

Drunk Danny is far from being a nightmare to handle; nuisance might be a better word. He’s currently attached to George’s hip, a dopey grin on his face as he repeatedly slurs out his love for the others. He’s wobbling on his feet, eyes half-closed, sleep evident in his posture.

George peels Danny away from him, grumbling to himself before turning and meeting Jordon’s eyes. Jordon’s beer stops halfway to his mouth, his face turning distraught.

“Jordon,” George says as he props Danny up. “It’s your turn.”

“Goddamnit,” Jordon whines, plunking the beer onto the table and hesitantly shuffling towards George. 

Danny perks up at the sight of him, his eyes heavy as he gives Jordon a sloppy, lopsided grin. “J’n…” he slurs, “Loooooove yoooooou.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too.” Jordon reaches out and takes Danny from George, slinging one of Danny’s arms over his shoulder and slowly begins to hobble towards the Murillo section of the house.

“J’d’n,” Danny mumbles at some point, sagging against Jordon’s shoulder. “Y’re so… great.” He turns to Jordon, alcohol on his breath, his eyes almost completely shut. “D’ y’...  _ know  _ how much I… loooove yoooou.”

Jordon heaves a long sigh. He doesn’t know how Reese puts up with this. “Yes, Danny, I know.”

“Good,” Danny slurs. “Jus’ m’king sure…” He looks like he’s about to fall asleep on Jordon’s shoulder. 

Jordon bumps Danny’s bedroom door open, shouldering his way in and pulling Danny towards the bed. He gently peels Danny away from his shoulder and lays him on the bed. 

There. All done.

Jordon brushes off his hands like he’s just done some sort of hard work before turning around, intent on returning to the booze.

A hand grips his shirt, tugging him back. He blinks, turning to Danny. Danny blinks up at him with watery, bleary eyes. “Wai’...” He tugs harder, pulling Jordon back towards him.

“What…” Jordon mutters as Danny tugs him down. He grips Danny’s wrist. “The fuck are you doing, bro?”

“Wan’... cuddles…” Danny slurs, before finally knocking Jordon off his feet, pulling him to the bed. Jordon’s head crashes into his, but Danny doesn't seem to mind. He sighs as he wraps his arms around a bemused Jordon, nuzzling his head into Jordon’s collarbone. 

“Seriously?” Jordon squirms in Danny’s arms, eyes darting towards the door in hopes of rescue. “Bro… I got 40s to chug.” His attempts to pull away just result in Danny squeezing him.

“Jus’... f’ a bit…” Danny mumbles, pressing his face to Jordon’s chest and breathing out softly. Jordon can see Danny drifting off, his body going still and heavy.

Jordon bites his lip, glaring up at the ceiling.  _ Goddamn it.  _ He sighs and frees one arm from beneath himself, wrapping it around Danny. Danny shifts in his sleep, letting out another soft puff of air.

Jordon doesn’t look away from the ceiling, Danny falling asleep against him.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“George, is that you?” Asia calls from the bed, her voice heavy with sleep. The bedroom is dark and quiet, the night sky draped outside of their window. The bathroom door is shut, a light leaking from beneath it.

“Yeah!” George calls from the bathroom, spitting toothpaste into the sink. He twists the faucet, sticking the toothbrush beneath the stream. 

Asia smiles a bit. “Get your ass in here.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He throws the toothbrush into the cup before shutting off the bathroom light, cracking the door open and slipping out into the bedroom. 

Asia scoots over, watching as George peels his shirt and pants off and flings himself into the bed, jumping just hard enough to bounce Asia up. She laughs a bit.

He tugs the blanket over himself and scoots closer to her. She presses her head to his chest, draping one hand over his stomach as he shifts and wraps his arm around her. “‘Bout time you got back,” she murmurs. 

“Yes, I bet it was painful not having anyone to yell at,” he teases.

She smirks, cracking one eye open. “Who’s yelling? Not me.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to her head. She makes a pleased noise. “Goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight.”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“J-Dog! Let me in!”

“No!” Jorel laughs as Jordon forces his way into Jorel’s bunk. “Go away!”

Jordon flops on top of Jorel, ignoring his wheeze and grinning down at him. Jorel glares up at him, though his half-smile betrays him. “You love me,” Jordon says.

“You’re fuckin’ annoying, dude,” Jorel says, wincing as Jordon shifts to the side, elbowing him in the gut. “Watch your arms, you fuckin’ nerd.”

“Shut up, whore.” Jorel makes an offended noise.

Jordon squeezes himself against Jorel’s side, half of him still on top of Jorel. Jorel groans and rolls his eyes but says nothing. Jordon nuzzles against his shoulder, watching with squinted eyes as Jorel pops his earbud back in and switches his phone on.

Jordon closes his eyes as muffled music blares from Jorel’s earbuds.

He lies quietly for a while, happily sprawled on Jorel as the other man bobs his head to his music, his fingers tapping Jordon’s shoulder in time to the beat. Eventually, the need for attention itches at Jordon, and he kicks his legs out, his foot knocking against Jorel’s ankle. Jorel hisses and jerks his foot away, glaring at Jordon’s grumpy face.

Jordon reaches up and tugs Jorel’s earbud out, prompting an indignant noise. “Whatcha listening to?”

Jorel glares at him. “Slipknot,” he grits out, snatching the earbud back. Jordon kicks his legs again. Jorel growls. “What?”

“I want attention!” Jordon cries. 

“I’m giving you attention!”

“No, you aren’t.” Jordon pouts. “You’re just tapping me.”

Jorel groans and drops his phone on his chest. “Here,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around Jordon and  _ squeezing.  _ Jordon wheezes as the breath is stolen from him.

It’s the most bone crushing hug Jordon’s ever had.

Jordon gasps for breath as Jorel releases him. “Jesus,” he wheezes. 

“There,” Jorel mutters as he puts his earbud back in. “Attention.” Jordon gives him a breathless grin.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


Reese peers into her glass, swirling the wine inside. The TV drones on in the background, a calm settled over the darkened room, the kids tucked away in their beds just down the hall. The only lights in the room are the dim lamp in the corner and the bright TV screen. She’s lost in her thoughts, eyeing the wine absentmindedly, when the door clicks open and Danny shuffles in. 

Reese smiles, warmth in her voice as she says, “Hey there.”

Danny offers her a tired smile, taking off his jacket and throwing it in the corner where Reese’s scrubs lay discarded. “Hey there,” he says back, tone tired but rife with affection. She pats the couch beside her and he ambles over. He flops down onto the couch, laying his head in Reese’s lap. She threads one hand through his hair, using the other to press the wine glass to her lips and take a deep drink.

She sets the wine aside, wiping her mouth. “How was recording?”

“Tiring,” he mumbles, “but good.”

She strokes his hair, gently fiddling with the pink strands, a little smile on her face. “Do you want any wine?”

He shakes his head. “No thanks. I just wanna sleep.”

She nods, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He gives a sleepy giggle, cracking his eyes open to smile at her. She smiles back. She lifts the wine once more, eyes turning to the screen.

Danny falls asleep there, his head in her lap.

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


George is sprawled on the couch, tapping away at his tablet, when Dylan comes over and flops down on top of him. George wheezes as the tablet is knocked from his hands. 

Dylan uses George’s chest to push himself up, sitting squarely on George’s stomach. George groans. “Dylan,” he wheezes.

“What?” Dylan asks, as if his ass is not currently digging into George’s organs.

“Get off me.”

Dylan hums thoughtfully. “Nah.”

“I hate you.”

Dylan pulls a joint and a lighter from his pocket, a grin on his face. “You know you love me, dude.” He lights up and slips the lighter back into his pocket. He draws in a deep inhale, blowing smoke out in a puff. He adjusts, George groaning as Dylan squashes his stomach. “Want a hit?” Dylan asks, unaffected by George’s misery. 

George stares at him. Dylan stares back. George sighs.  _ “Fine,”  _ he bites out, trying to ignore the weight on his guts.

Dylan leans over, his hip bone jabbing into George’s ribs, and presses the joint to George’s mouth. George glares at him as he takes a deep inhale, a pleasant haze settling in his bones. He blows out, still glaring. “Fuck you.”

“Chill out, homes,” Dylan says as he adjusts again. George groans.

“That’s it,” George mutters, taking hold of Dylan and throwing him off. Dylan yelps as he hits the floor.

Dylan rolls onto his back, glaring up at George. “Okay, you know what,” he mutters. “You don’t get any of this.” He waves the joint.

George arches his brows. “We have a weed company, Dylan.”

“Shut up.”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  


“Make some room!” Jorel shuffles towards the bed, chuckling when Vanessa simply sprawls herself out on it.

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’. She nuzzles her face into the pillow and smirks at him. “All mine.” 

“You asked for it.” He flops down on top of her.

She squeals and kicks, pushing him off as she rolls over, bursting with laughter. He grins and nestles into his newly-free spot, pulling the blanket over himself and rolling onto his back. 

She smiles at him from where she lays, her hair spilling across the pillow. “Scooch,” she says, poking at him. He snorts and rolls onto his side. Vanessa scoots closer and presses herself against his back, slinging one arm over his waist and pressing her face to his neck. He lets out a soft sigh and shifts, adjusting himself.

Salem leaps onto the bed, mewing as she walks over Jorel to flop down between him and Vanessa, curling up into a ball. 

Vanessa presses a kiss to the back of Jorel’s head, and then they fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i intend to have a part ii of this eventually with more combos + anna and randi!! this is just all i have so far


End file.
